Northern Dancer, Run for the Roses

Before the Dancer, the great arctic colt

of the crooked blaze and three white socks,

slipped the border, running for the roses

was a fool's dream. Eighty-eight calls to the post,

eighty-six bluegrass prancers first past the wire.

The Kentucky breds whinnied their contempt.

The diminutive bay, barely fifteen hands,

four squat quarters just enough

to keep a tail from dragging,

seemed an unlikely pretender.

Though the blood lines hinted a pedigree

of pace and stamina few believed,

and none enough to risk the fee

of twenty-five thousand, this northern

son of Winfield had it in him

to stand among the giants of May's

great sprint to immortality.

Those Kentucky breds needn't worry.

Until the late autumn of '63: the Dancer,

in need of sterner races, came south

to run. Ten days, two miles, thirteen studs

left in the dust of wire-to-wire sprints,

made the Kentucky breds take notice,

a cold arctic wind was blowing.

February, Hialeah, the snow-birds perched

along the rail to watch their touted bay

stake his claim. Churchill, come May.

The little horse, getting quicker by the mile,

had the backstretch buzzing, guts and brawn, 

the Kentuckians warned, this colt's a coming. 

The first Saturday in May, Kentucky's

crowning glory, eleven bluegrass sons

went to the gate with the Dancer:

from the gate to the rail, a clean break,

the arctic wind blew down the backstretch,

measuring his strides until

turning for home Hartack cut him loose,

eleven seconds eleven colts

suspended in motion while the bay

romped in front, legs like hummingbirds

wings carrying him on towards his place

among the mortals. Faster than any

had ever run the roses before.

The Kentucky crowd stood breathless,

they'd never felt an arctic wind this bold.

Ken e Bujold 

2022

Reviews

[Dave Brown]

This is a gem
I had forgotten all about The Northern Dancer.
Even the name itself was special
A special remembrance

[Ken e Bujold]

he is one of the most remarkable of all time. if but for a half lenght in the belmont, he might well considering the sire's legacy he left, be considered the greatest of them all, which is saying a lot because I saw the Big Red One, Secretariat race.

[Red Brick Keshner]

I was wondering about the fourth white sock but it seems to be the coloration of the race horses that determine that. Never been to an actual race except once attending a wedding in winter opposite a race track on a river bend. It was a bit of a distraction as could be imagined!

[Ken e Bujold]

i was always around horses and tracks when i was young. my uncle raced them, and grandparents lived 5 mins from one of canada's biggest tracks

[Red Brick Keshner]

Oh wow. My grandparents (paternal) house was in acreage right next to a horse ranch. And my other grandparents (maternal) ran a proper cattle ranch, complete with horses and other livestock as well. But never racing, lol. When I turned 40 I began to develop an allergy to horse hair, pine needles, grass and acacia. There went my outdoorsy lifestyle. lol.